Asking For Help
by MissingMommy
Summary: It takes one moment for Hermione to realize that she does, in fact, need help. :: Romione, post-war. For Olivia.


For Olivia. I'm so sorry that this is late. This isn't exactly my usual cup of tea as far as pairings go, so I really hope that you like it!

For the Quidditch League. Beater 1 with the extra prompts of glory and uncovered.

There aren't enough thanks in the world for Amber who not only helped me through this, but is a lovely person. Thank you so much, dear!

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Hermione fires spell after spell. On either side of her, she can see more brightly colored spells heading at the target. However, the woman with murderous eyes just laughs, gracefully dodging them, sending off spells of her own. In a fury of colors, a flash of red flies toward her and Hermione freezes.

She knows this spell all too well. She's experienced it before, back at Malfoy Manor, where she was tortured for information about the sword. It's a memory she would rather forget, but it's the memory that keeps her rooted to the spot despite logic telling her to move, unable to get out of the way in time. The red spell hits her in her chest.

Her nerve-endings alight as she crumbles to the ground. She can hear her name just barely over the sound of fire blazing through her body, and she cannot help the scream that tears itself from her throat. A hand is holding her shoulder, shaking it, causing more pain to flood her body. Tears streak down her face as she begs for the torture to stop.

"Hermione!"

Her eyes snap open, flickering around in fear, trying to place where she's at. Above her, she can see the silhouette of a person. Her already pounding heart races a little quicker upon seeing the figure. From the moonlight, she can see unmistakably red hair and the tension in her body quickly drains.

"I'm fine, Ginny," she reassures the redhead. Even to her own ears, it sounds like a lie.

A shadow of a doubt crosses Ginny's face and, for a moment, Hermione wonders if she's going to call her out on it. However, Ginny just nods and climbs back into her own bed. It's what Hermione likes most about Ginny; she doesn't press when Hermione doesn't want to talk.

She listens as Ginny's breathing evens out, trying to match her breathing. It fails, as always, but it gives Hermione something other than her nightmare to think about. She spends the rest of the night staring at the shadows the moonlight makes from the trees, unable to find sleep.

* * *

Hermione sits in the living room of the Burrow, a book in her lap. She's reading from wandlight because she is, yet again, unable to find sleep. It's restless at best, even with dreamless sleep draughts.

The stairs creak as someone descends them. She looks up to meet the sleepy gaze of her boyfriend. His red hair sticks up in different directions and his night clothes are rumbled. "Merlin, 'Mione. What are you doing up?" he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

She gestures down to the book. "Reading," she replies.

Whatever he came down to do in the first place has long been forgotten as he takes a seat across from her. "At…" he pauses, glancing up at the clock hanging near the fireplace, "three in the morning?"

She doesn't need to look at him to know that he's giving her a questioning look. "Yes." She continues to read her book, hoping that Ron wouldn't press any further into the subject.

"I've heard that you've been having nightmares again," Ron says. His voice is full of concern. "Ginny says that you've been having them almost every night."

She turns to him, exhaustion written on her features. "She's imagining things, Ronald," she answers, exasperated. "I'm fine."

He gives her a disbelieving look. "Just talk to me. It can help you."

Her expression hardens slightly out of annoyance. She doesn't want to talk about. She's been handling it just fine on her own. "I don't need help. I'm _fine_," she emphasizes again.

A moment passes between them in silence as he stares at her. He pulls her into a hug. She flinches at the contact, memories of pain flooding her body. Her heart starts to race as she tries to tell herself that she isn't in danger.

"Okay then. I'm heading back to bed. Come get me if you need something," he says. He presses a kiss to her temple before heading back upstairs.

Even after he's gone, she can still feel his arm burning fire into her body. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths in, trying to slow her heartbeat. It takes a few minutes, but she's finally able to turn back to her book.

* * *

Pulling her shirt over her head, Hermione tosses it in her clothes bin. She picks up a fresh shirt and moves to pull it over her head. Out the corner of her eye, she can see the word _Mudblood_ carved into her forearm. Seeing it uncovered causes her movements stop as memories flood her mind.

The Cruciatus curse is burned into her nerves as she tries to remind herself that it's just a memory. The pain is enough to cause her gasp. She hates this part. She hates feeling like she's drowning with no way to the surface. The only thing she can do is suck in deep breaths and count to four before releasing them, waiting for the feeling to pass.

The door flies open and she hears, "Shit! I thought you were dressed!"

It's just enough to bring her back to the present. She quickly pulls her shirt over her head and turns toward the doorway, where Ron is standing, looking pointedly anywhere beside her. "It's alright," she assures him.

"I, er, was just letting you know that breakfast is ready," he says, his ears slightly red.

Even though she's not hungry, she nods anyways. "I'll be down in a minute."

He turns and disappears. She can hear his footsteps down the stairs as she holds onto the bedpost. Her breathing has evened out and her heart is no longer pounding. She takes another moment to ensure that her hands aren't shaking before leaving the room she shares with Ginny.

* * *

As she makes her way through Diagon Alley, with Harry and Ron at her side, Hermione wishes that they didn't need to go out. However, Hermione needs new things for her final year at Hogwarts and they wouldn't let her go alone. But with the Chosen One at her side, people gather around, trying to see the person who saved the Wizarding world.

Hermione knows that Harry hates this as much as she does. He never wanted glory; he wanted peace. But his entire life has been nothing but fame, even when he wasn't trying. And media following was only the side effects of the fame. Harry ducks his head as much as possible and Hermione feels slightly guilty for needing this trip because she sees how uncomfortable he is.

They are about to enter Florish and Bott's when camera's start to flash. Hermione's grip on Ron's hand tights considerably as she tells herself to breath. Ron gives her a look, which she ignores, but he doesn't complain about her grip. Instead, he leads her inside the store as quickly as he can.

The flashback this time isn't as rough as the others, which Hermione is thankful for. She concentrates on her breathing and remaining calm. It's the first time that Hermione realizes how bad everything is.

She needs to be able to handle spells, to handle crowds and loud noises if she's to go back to Hogwarts in September. In this state, experiencing flashbacks every time she sees her scar or red spells, she won't survive Hogwarts by herself.

* * *

By the time that the trio arrives back at the Burrow, Hermione is exhausted. But before she heads up to another round of fitful sleep, she looks at Ron.

"I need help, Ron," she whispers. It should feel like defeat, she muses, but it doesn't. She does need help. She can't do this on her own anymore, and admitting that doesn't make her weak like she first thought; it makes her strong.

He presses his lips to hers gently. "We'll get you help," he promises. "And everything will be okay."

She just nods, smiling for the first time in a while. Things might just get better from here.

**A/n – So many thanks so Lizy for beta-ing this for me!**


End file.
